


Show Me

by tumbleoutyourhair



Series: Some Nights [3]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Incest, M/M, Riding, Spitroasting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumbleoutyourhair/pseuds/tumbleoutyourhair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five times Sam caught Dean getting lucky,</p>
<p>and the one time it was deliberately set up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day

there’s a good chance the first time will be an accident.

maybe Sam’s coming back from a food run, or an interview with a recent widow. whatever it was he’d be coming back to the motel and certainly never expecting that his brother might not be alone.

he’d get through the door and maybe three steps into the room before his brain would register what he was seeing and he would spin around on his heel and leave the way he came.

then he’d probably spend the next few hours researching, trying to erase the images of his older brother leaning against a wall, legs spread to accommodate the guy between them. maybe he’d talk to the local sheriff, or chat up a pretty blonde to try and drown out _that’s it baby—fuck—you were made to choke on my dick weren’t you?_

but there might be a brief hysterical though that sneaks through as he’s wolfing down a salad. that maybe if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of the guy frantically jerking his own cock he might have been a little concerned that Dean might actually choke him with the force of his thrusts.

he’d probably resolve to get laid pretty soon after that.

-

maybe the second time will be pretty accidental too.

Sam will jerk awake to the sound of the door clicking shut, and the darkness of the room will throw him for a minute.

“Dean?”

there’d only be silence and Sam would reach for his phone—clock blinking back a stupidly early time at him. 

clambering to his feet, he’d wander to the window, squinting out into the near-empty parking lot. not seeing his brother, he’d step outside into the cool summer pre-dawn, automatically searching for the Impala.

his gaze drifts over it, and he starts wandering down the hall when movement catches his eye and he turns back to the car. nothing happens, and for a moment he wonders what it was that caught his attention when—

Sam snorts. “Really Dean?”

he retreats back to their room, turning his back to the image of the Impala rhythmically rocking back and forth on it’s wheels.

“He better air that fucking thing out tomorrow,” he mutters to himself as he crawls back under the covers.

-

the third time would be purely coincidence so really Sam couldn’t even get annoyed.

there’d only been two single rooms left so Sam is supposed to be down the hall doing research. but maybe he finds a pattern so he wanders down the corridor and uses Dean’s spare card to let himself into his brother’s room.

Dean’s nowhere in sight but he can hear the shower running so he settles at the kitchenette table—rolling his eyes when he has to shove a shirt onto the floor. something ticks in his brain a moment later though and he looks back down, realizing there’s no way in hell that shirt would ever fit Dean. his gaze is following what he now notices as a trail of clothing to the bathroom door when he hears it—

“ _Shit_.”

it’d be Dean’s voice so Sam automatically lurches to his feet to—

“Ho-holy fucking s-shit!”

and that would be distinctly not Dean’s voice and Sam would freeze before realizing what he had once again stumbled upon and turning to quickly and quietly gather up his things.

“God fucking— _Dean_!”

the replying rumble of Dean’s voice is too low for Sam to make out what he says but there’s no way for him to miss the wrecked _howl_ that chases him out the door.

he’d slam the door to his own room and fall back against it, eyes wide and unseeing, barely keeping a grip on his laptop. and it wouldn’t be until he had staggered into his bathroom to splash cold water on his face that he would notice that his dick was half-hard in his jeans.

“Fuck.”

-

the next time, it’d have been so long since the last time, that Sam won’t even recognize that he’d walked in on something when he glances over to see Dean sprawled out on the bed with his phone to his ear.

it’s only half a heartbeat later when he double-takes and sees that Dean has his dick out and is languidly stroking himself that he practically trips over his own feet trying to get out the door.

but even with the door closed between them he could still hear Dean’s growling rasp of “yeah now get a third one in there—you’re so tight aren’t you? fuck I can’t wait to see you again, get my dick inside that hot little hole of yours. you want that? want me to fuck a load of jizz so deep into you you can taste it? yeah baby that’s it” and Sam would mock his brother’s dirty talk if he hadn’t been roughly palming his dick on the other side of the door.

maybe that’s the night he decides enough is enough. maybe he stalks off to find the nearest bar. maybe he finds some tiny little blonde with a tongue piercing that let’s him fuck her in the bathroom stall. but it’s probably still his brother’s voice he’s hearing in his head.

-

looking back, Sam will still deny that the next incident was in any way his fault.

maybe he’s still a bit woozy from the blood-loss, and really the fault can be placed entirely on the banshee for that one, so he doesn’t entirely catch on when Dean tells him to piss off to his own room for a couple of hours.

and maybe that’s why he stands there in the doorway for far longer than he should watching his brother pin some guy to a wall. the stranger has one leg hooked up over Dean’s shoulder and the other wrapped tightly around his waist and it gives Sam a great viewing point to where Dean has his hand wrapped around both their dicks.

maybe he’s caught up watching the way Dean’s hips are thrusting, or the way the kid’s red mouth is panting loudly into the space between them, but it takes awhile for Sam to notice that it actually is a kid. his brain wants to kick up a fuss but then said kid lets out a strangely familiar wail and holy shit Sam needs to get out of there yesterday.

but then the kid throws his head back against the wall, back arching as he spurts all over Dean’s fist and as his head lolls to the side his eyes flutter open and he meets Sam’s gaze head on.

maybe he looks surprised, or stunned, but he certainly doesn’t react negatively—just tightens his legs around Dean and mewls when Dean finally snarls and comes all over the kid’s dick and shirt.

Sam would take that as his cue to leave, fleeing as quickly and quietly as he could. he’d barely make it to his own room before shoving his hand into his pants and grasping his cock tightly. he’d barely need three strokes before he’s moaning gutturally and coming all over the inside of his jeans.

he barely has the willpower to swap his ruined jeans for a pair of sweats before he collapses on the nearest bed. his last truly conscious thought would be that he has a serious problem.

-

 

maybe it’s the awareness that he’s no longer alone in the room. or maybe it’s the creak of the floor. it’s probably the low, wanton moan—but he’ll never know that.

but Sam wakes suddenly, dazed and a little bit sticky, staring blearily at the wall. he hears something behind him and he tenses, before his brother’s voice soothes his nerves.

“‘t’s about time you woke up, Sammy. We were startin’ to think you were gonna sleep through all the fun.”

he sits up slowly, grinding the palms of his hands into his crusty eyes, muttering “fun? we wh- _holy shit_ ” and throwing himself back against the headboard as he looks up for the first time.

Dean’s probably sprawled in a chair, fully dressed because he likes the control, with a heavy-lidded look on his face and a half-empty bottle of rum dangling from his fingers. but that’s not would would catch Sam’s attention. it’d be the twinky kid from before, naked from the waist down and riding his brother backwards— knees tucked between the arms of the chair and his brother’s thighs, hands braced against his thighs—watching Sam with a dazed look on his face.

“Dean what the fuck?!” Sam would choke, trying desperately not to look at the kid’s cock—flushed and leaking as it bounces with the kid’s rhythm.

Dean would smirk, running a hand up the kid’s spine under his shirt. “What? Don’t act like you haven’t been watchin’ Sammy. I’ve seen you— _we’ve_ seen you. Haven’t we baby?” and he’d punctuate the question with a sudden thrust of his hips.

the kid would mewl, thrown off his balance before catching himself and turning a half-hearted scowl over his shoulder. “I get that you like some plot with your porn, but can we _hnngh_ move this along? Someone of us would like to come in the next dec—fuck!—decade or so.”

and Sam would clench his fists in his pants. “Dean. The fuck.”

bringing the bottle to his lips, his brother would take a swig before leaning forward, catching the kid with an arm around his ribcage. “Sam, meet Stiles. Stiles, meet my baby brother Sammy.” and he’d grind up hard, fastening the kid—Stiles—to him when he’d yelp and writhe back into the cradle of Dean’s hips.

Sam would desperately try to ignore where his cock is swelling in his pants when the kid pants in his direction through that red, swollen mouth. “N-nice to meet y-you. I can’t help but _goddammit_ notice you like to watch your brother _fu_ ck me.”

before he could try and deny it, Dean would slide a hand up Stiles’ chest to trace his fingers across his open lips. “Stiles here has a bit of an oral fixation, dontcha baby?” as if to prove his point he slips two fingers into the kid’s mouth who lets his eyes slide shut, moaning as he swivels his hips.

“Dean for fuck’s sake he’s like sixteen!” Sam snaps, digging his nails into his thighs to try and stem his dick from growing anymore.

Stiles makes an affronted noise, pulling his mouth off Dean’s fingers to glare at Sam. “Excuse you I’m seventeen.”

Sam stares at him—momentarily thrown as to how this kid thinks that argument is going to make this whole situation any better. Dean makes a curious noise, licking at the nape of Stiles’ neck. “Since when?”

Stiles would turn a wicked grin over his shoulder. “Since two months ago.”

“Well happy birthday to me,” he murmurs before sinking his teeth into the kid’s shoulder through his shirt and yanking him back hard onto his dick.

the kid wails before it’s muffled by Dean sticking his fingers back in his mouth. he whimpers, frantically grinding his hips backwards as one hand wraps tightly around the base of his erection as if to stave off—

“Dean,” he’d groan, “Dean this is insane. What are you doing?”

and Dean would smirk oh so filthy and mean and it would bring back all kinds of memories that Sam thought he had buried. “Like I said, baby boy here loves to have something in his mouth. A fixation really,” he licks a line up the kid’s jawline, “and I couldn’t help but let it slip that baby brother happens to be packin’ heat.”

Stiles whimpers from where he’s drooling around Dean’s fingers. he’s staring at Sam with a delirious look on his flushed face and it’s only now that Sam lets himself notice how hard he is in his pants. he doesn’t even notice he’s palming himself through the fabric until Dean and Stiles let out twin moans—once higher than the other.

“And so?” He asks quietly. “You want me to, what?”

“Let him taste it,” Dean would growl, low and dark. “Choke him with it; get that fat dick out and fuck his pretty little mouth with it.”

and Sam would finally let himself moan as his dick twitches, blurting out a blob of pre-come and darkening the front of his sweats. Stiles arches his back, slurping at Dean’s fingers like he’s trying to advertise his assets to Sam.

Sam swallows heavily. “Is he always this needy?”

Dean flashes his teeth.

hook

line

sinker

“You have no idea, Sammy. You should see him when we fuck. Can’t ever decide what he wants more—my cock up his ass or down his throat.”

Stiles mewls as if in agreement and Sam slowly slides himself to the foot of the bed, letting his legs spread wide to showcase the bulge in his sweatpants. the kid stares at it, breath huffing from his nostrils and hips wriggling against Dean’s in enthusiasm. Dean would chuckle, letting his fingers slide from Stiles’ mouth as he leans back to reach for the abandoned rum bottle. Stiles would lick absentmindedly at the trailing saliva, turning his dark gaze back to Sam’s.

“Get your dick out—I wanna see it. C’mon Sam _please_ I need to _see it_.”

and Sam would never know how he had ever lasted this long, scrambling for his waistband as Dean laughs again. “I told you he was needy.”

Sam would get his pants shoved down over his hips, elastic band snug under his balls because he’s a giver. Stiles pants heavily, hips bucking and eyes fixated on Sam’s dick.

“Holy fuck—holy fuck _Dean_.”

his brother would smirk, pressed up against the kid’s back again, rum securely in hand. “I know baby, I know. You’ll get what you need, don’t worry.”

he gets his fingers back in Stiles’ mouth, slowly spreading them to stretch his lips wide. Sam gets a flash of tongue between his brother’s fingers, and he swallows heavily, hand coming up to grasp his cock.

“So what do you say Sammy?” Dean asks, bringing the bottle up to Stiles’ lips. “You gonna give him what he needs?”

and _holy fuck_

Dean slides the bottle between his fingers and into the kid’s mouth. languidly thrusting it back and forth, Sam can see through the glass how Stiles practically _gags_ for it—tongue coming up to circle the neck before plunging into the hole to plug it up. oh so slowly, Dean tilts the bottle up feeding Stiles tiny sips of rum, crooning when some trickles down his chin.

and Sam won’t realize he’s moaning, or that he’s fisting his cock, until Stiles whimpers, eyes fixated on where Sam’s hand is moving.

“Oh don’t be like that Sammy,” Dean will simper. “You’re gonna deny this pretty little thing your dick?”

and Sam will curse, surging to his feet and Stiles will practically purr as Dean gently pulls the bottle from his mouth, curling his tongue around Dean’s fingers one last time before he removes them, dragging them down his throat and trailing a sheen of saliva down the kid’s neck. Dean will set the bottle down before reaching to grab the hem of Stiles’ shirt pulling it up over his head but leaving it to tangle behind him—effectively binding his hands at the small of his back.

Stiles will grumble over his shoulder at Dean but will be too distracted by the cock looming in front of him to give it proper heat. he’ll look up at Sam coyly, tongue dragging along his plush lower lip. “You gonna give it to me? Feed me your dick inch by inch?”

Sam will snarl quietly, gripping his straining erection, holding it just beyond the kid’s reach to hear him whimper. “Christ Dean, where’d you find this thing?”

Dean smirks, reaching up to fist his hand in Stiles’ hair and use his grip to tug his head back—baring his neck to Sam’s hungry gaze. “Some shithole motel; just like this one. Found him lying around just waiting for someone to come along and take care of him.”

Stiles huffs through his nose, but won’t take the time to refute him, to focused on keeping his mouth open in a lewd invitation. Sam will eventually take pity on him, stepping closer and rubbing the head of his dick against his lip, leaving a shiny trail of pre-come like some sort of perverted lipbalm. 

Stiles will let out a high keen, brow furrowing with need. “Stop being a fucking tease—Christ what is it with you two?! If you say you’re gonna fuck a guy then—”

and Sam will put an end to his complaining by shoving his cock down his throat. immediately Stiles’ eyes will slam shut and he’ll moan salaciously, rocking his hips and body twitching as he tries not to gag.

Dean will grin, all sharp teeth and dark eyes, leaning back to sprawl in his chair (throne, Sam will think), one hand wrapped in the t-shirt still binding Stiles’ hands. the other comes up to smack his flank, eyes fluttering when the kid bucks. “Alright, kid, you’ve got what you wanted—now ride me like a good boy.”

it takes a minute, but eventually Stiles gets a rhythm going—hips undulating in Dean’s lap, forcing moans from the older man; mouth working up and down Sam’s cock, suckling at the head and laving the vein underneath with his tongue. Sam groans, hand coming up to tangle in the kid’s hair, another cradling his jaw to feel the bone work around his dick. it takes him a moment or two to comprehend that he’s thrusting his hips and he manages to grind to a halt. he’s watching that red mouth slide up and down his flesh, and thats the only reason he sees Stiles open his eyes and stare eagerly up at him, making needy noises in the back of his throat.

Sam makes soothing noises, hips starting up another rhythm—smoother and deeper—that has Stiles drooling over his chin.

“That’s it Sammy,” Dean purrs, watching them through half-lidded eyes, breath coming heavy through his nose, freckles stark against his flushed chin. He arches his back, changing the angle and watching, pleased, as Stiles twitches violently—rocking himself harder back onto his dick. “Fuck his hot little mouth. Wanna come down his throat? Gag him with a load of jizz? He’ll let you Sammy—let you and _love it_.”

Stiles will whine and Sam will let out a low oath before snapping his hips forward, burying his dick in Stiles’ throat. his vision hazes as he fucks the kid’s face, and he’s vaguely aware of the bruising grip Dean has on his hips as he shoves up into the lithe body. tears are streaming from Stiles’ eyes but he’s moaning and swallowing around Sam’s dick—hollowing his cheeks when he pulls out, pushing forward when Sam thrusts back in to take him as far down his throat as he can.

“Yeah that’s it,” Dean groans, “s-shit I’m so fucking close. Gonna come in your tight little ass, yeah? Then my baby brother’s gonna come down your throat.” Stiles isn’t so much riding Dean anymore as he is being bounced on his cock. “You’re gonna be full of us—no one’s gonna come _near_ you. Not when you reek and _taste_ of us baby boy.”

and Sam swears, “Jesus fuck Dean sh-shut _up_. I’m trying to last more than five minutes here.”

Dean bares his teeth. “You never d-did have much stamina; I thought you would’ve _grow_ n out of that with everything I _fuck_ taught you.”

and Stiles will make a sharp noise, whole body tightening and locking up, then Sam will feel a wet splatter against his leg—the kid coming completely untouched.

it sets something off in him, hand clenching painfully in that messy bedhead, hips driving forcefully into the kid’s face. despite the wracking orgasm Stiles dutifully keeps sucking and swallowing; pre-come and drool setting a shine to his lovely mouth. suddenly there’s another hand tangled with his in Stiles’ hair and Sam looks up to see Dean staring at him—mouth parted around his breath.

“C’mon Sammy, come for us. He’s been so good hasn’t he?” He surges forward, chin hooking over Stiles’ sweaty shoulder looking up at Sam through his lashes. “I wanna see you come baby boy.”

and before Sam can even begin to comprehend, Dean’s leaning forward to drag his tongue across Stiles’ mouth where its wrapped around his dick.

Sam yells, vision whiting out as the orgasm that was curling at the base of his spine suddenly explodes outwards. Stiles moans as he fucks his way through it before stilling—cock shoved as deep as it will go, coming wetly down the kid’s throat. Stiles swallows like a pro, sucking lightly even as Sam drags his flagging erection from his mouth. then he yelps as Dean leans back, anchoring him with a hand at his hip and pushing him forward with a hand around the back of his neck.

“Fuck so good—ready for me baby?” Dean tosses his head back, eyes finally slipping closed as he pounds into the tight ass above him. if he hadn’t just brutally come, Sam knows the obscene slap of skin on skin would have him raring for another round. as it is, he moans in sympathy, dropping to his knees before them, hands sliding up Stiles’ taught thighs and nosing against his damp jaw.

“God you’re doing so well—is this what you’ve been waiting for? You want my big brother to come in your ass? Want him to fuck you til you’re _aching_ with it? And no matter how many fingers you stick up you ass it just won’t be enough?”

Stiles stares at him deliriously, mouth open as always, panting heavily and jerking in time with Dean’s thrusts. “Is that- _hnngh oh my god_ \- is that h-how you felt?"

Sam grins, feral and wicked. “Every day.”

and he’s ready when Stiles moans and lunges that small distance to seal his wet mouth to Sam’s. he’s familiar with the taste of his own jizz in someone else’s mouth, but the taste of Stiles is sharp and heady. their tongues slide messily together, not even kissing just sharing saliva and air and come. Dean’s swearing and growling behind them, and Sam adjusts to ride the increasingly volatile movements of Stiles’ body.

he drags his mouth away and the sound is slick and shameless and he stares over the kid’s shoulder at his brother while Stiles mouths insatiably at his lips. “C’mon Dean, _come for us _. Mark him as _ours_ big brother.”__

and Dean will lose his mind as he always does, abruptly sliding to the edge of the chair, letting Sam catch Stiles’ upper body as he plants his feet and violates the kid’s ass. Stiles wails and sobs into Sam’s neck, writhing and twisting and seemingly incapable of holding still.

“De- _Dean_ jesus fuck please! I need you- need you to come in my ass! _Please_ , Dean.”

Sam will never get tired of the look on Dean’s face when he comes. snarling out his pleasure he yanks the kid back and pins him while he grinds his hips as hard as he can against his ass. Sam knows what Stiles is feeling—a deep hot pulse as Dean swells, liquid heat splattering his walls and dripping down his thighs.

Sam will soothe his hands down the kid’s back in long strokes as Dean rides out his orgasm with hunching hips, sweat dripping from his temples and breath huffing from his open mouth. Stiles keens quietly and Sam can feel him drooling against his shoulder and merely smiles.

finally, slowly, Dean eases back into a sprawl and together they gently guide Stiles’ pliant body with him—hushing his quiet noises. Sam takes a moment to admire them like that—flushed and sweaty, one naked and one fully clothed. Stiles settles back against Dean’s chest, nosing against his jaw. eyes still closed, Dean runs a hand up and down his chest.

“You ok kid?” he rumbles.

Stiles will mutter some sort of agreement and Sam hums a quiet laugh, reaching forward to take the long-forgotten rum bottle and finish it off in one long pull. something skiffs his hair and he glances up to see Stiles peering at him out of a slitted eye and he grins lopsided at the kid.

“So,” he rasps, “we’re doing this again right?”

Sam groans, dropping his head against Dean’s knee while his brother curses. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Teenagers,” Sam laments mockingly.

Dean snorts. “Tell me about it; this was a terrible idea.”

Ignoring Stiles’ quiet protests, Sam leans back and runs an appraising eye over them again.

“Oh I dunno,” he winks at Stiles’ smirk, “we’ve had worse.”

**Author's Note:**

> [I WROTE THIS IN ONE GO WHEN THE POWER WENT OUT. IT GOT SUPER WEIRD AND PORNY AND IDEK SORRY I'M NOT SORRY???]
> 
> once again I refuse to apologize for the lack of structure and basic tenses. I tried to tag everything I could, let me know if you think I missed something or something should be added!
> 
> con. crit. always welcomed!
> 
> feel free to come cry with me on [tumblr](http://almostjohnkennexx.tumblr.com)


End file.
